...
The air, thin and biting at such impossible altitudes, screamed past Tomoe and Shalltear. They weren't merely flying; they were a blur against the bruised twilight sky, a pair of impossibly fast silhouettes leaving a faint, shimmering distortion in their wake. The world below them, a patchwork of forests and distant, twinkling city lights, stretched out like a forgotten tapestry.
Tomoe felt the familiar tug of the wind, a constant companion on their high-speed transits. She adjusted her grip on the invisible currents, her mind already several steps ahead, anticipating the complexities of their mission. It wasn't just about speed; it was about precision.
"So... any plan for this kidnapping?" Tomoe's voice, though calm, held a razor's edge of exasperation that cut through the wind's roar. She glanced sideways at Shalltear, whose crimson eyes were fixed on the vanishing horizon, a faint, almost predatory smile playing on her lips. Shalltear, as always, seemed to relish the raw power of their movement.
Shalltear, ever the direct one, hummed, a sound that was more growl than contemplation. "Can't we just slaughter them? And take the girl?" Her suggestion was delivered with an almost childlike innocence, a complete disregard for subtlety that made Tomoe want to pull out her own hair.
It wasn't malice, not exactly, but a profound, almost clinical, lack of understanding for anything other than brute force and the most efficient path to a goal, especially when that goal was an order from their revered Lord. Shalltear genuinely believed she was offering a perfectly viable, even superior, solution.
Tomoe's shoulders slumped, a silent, internal groan echoing through her mind. She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead, a gesture of profound weariness.
"Shalltear," she began, her voice a low, patient thrum, "our Lord has indeed given us a mission to acquire the princess. But consider this from a different perspective." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.
"Our home, our very existence, is currently hidden. Do we truly need to reveal ourselves to those we don't know, those who might perceive us as a threat and attack us, without first consulting our Lord?"
Shalltear's head tilted, her long, silver hair whipping in the wind. A flicker of something akin to realization crossed her features, a rare moment where the gears in her formidable, yet often single-minded, mind seemed to click into place.
"Ah," she murmured, the sound barely audible above the wind. "A matter of strategic discretion. To preserve the secrecy of our Lord's domain." Her tone shifted, a hint of understanding dawning.
Tomoe nodded, a small, tired smile gracing her lips. "Precisely. And remember, it's not just about following orders. It's about following them to the best of our ability, with the utmost efficiency and minimal collateral."
"So, we will kidnap the princess as if we were never even there. As if we were nothing more than a whisper in the night. Understood?"
Shalltear's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of competitive determination igniting within them. "Understood," she affirmed, a new resolve hardening her features. The challenge of absolute stealth, of achieving the impossible without leaving a trace, seemed to appeal to her in a way simple slaughter never could.
"No one will know. No one will even suspect." A faint, almost eager glint appeared in her eyes, as if the new parameters made the mission even more exciting.
...
Meanwhile, within the opulent, yet stifling, confines of the Gritonia Empire's Grand Palace, Princess Lily Font Gritonia navigated the labyrinthine corridors. Her footsteps, light and practiced, carried her past guards and nobles.
The air, heavy with the scent of polished wood and stale incense, seemed to press in on her. Each passing noble, each bowing guard, demanded a performance.
She offered a serene smile, a gentle nod, a perfectly modulated "Good evening" or "A pleasure, Lord so-and-so." Her sapphire eyes, usually sharp and intelligent, were softened to a placid, almost vacant blue, reflecting nothing of the turmoil within.
"Princess Lily, a truly radiant vision as always," purred Countess Valerius, a woman whose smile never quite reached her eyes. Lily offered a saccharine reply, her hand briefly brushing the Countess's, a gesture of feigned warmth. The touch felt cold, like a snake's skin.
Inside, however, a storm raged. Every polite word felt like ash on her tongue, every forced smile a contortion of her soul. The weight of her crown, though metaphorical, pressed down on her, a constant, suffocating burden.
She loathed the way she had to present herself, this saccharine, compliant image of a princess, when all she wanted was to scream, to lash out, to shatter the gilded cage she was born into. The very air of the palace, thick with the cloying perfume of ambition, felt like a prison.
Her thoughts, a whirlwind of resentment and suppressed rage, kept circling back to the upcoming ritual—the 'Sacred Summoning' due tonight. The day the 'Goddess' would deign to grant them a Hero, a champion to face the ever-looming threat of the Demons.
A farce, she thought, a grand, theatrical lie. She hated the Goddess. Hated the very concept of her, the omnipresent, benevolent entity worshipped by every 'hyuman' in this world. Lily blamed her, not just for the pervasive, stifling piety that choked individuality, but for something far more personal, a wound that festered deep within her soul: her mother's death.
Her mother, a woman of fierce intellect and quiet strength, had died during a 'blessing' ritual, a supposed gift from the Goddess that had gone horribly wrong. The official story was a tragic accident, a divine will beyond mortal comprehension.
But Lily knew better. She remembered the flicker of fear in her mother's eyes, the faint, desperate plea on her lips before the light consumed her. The memory, though years old, was as fresh as yesterday's heartbreak. And the Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, had offered no explanation, no solace, only more demands for unwavering faith.
"If only I were stronger," she whispered to herself, the words a bitter mantra. "If only I were smart enough, powerful enough, to defy her." In this world, strength and beauty were the only currencies that mattered due goddess, the only paths to true agency.
And she, for all her royal blood, felt utterly, hopelessly weak, a pawn in a divine game she desperately wanted to overturn. The weight of her powerlessness was a physical ache in her chest.
Finally, she reached the sanctuary of her private chambers. The heavy oak door swung open, revealing a room adorned with luxurious silks and intricate carvings, a room that should have offered comfort but felt just as suffocating as the hallways.
She kicked off her delicate slippers, the small act of defiance a tiny rebellion. With a sigh of pure exhaustion, she collapsed onto the plush, velvet-covered bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. The 'kind and good Princess' persona dissolved, leaving behind only a weary, disillusioned young woman. She closed her eyes, hoping for a few minutes of blissful oblivion before the next round of duties.
The oblivion lasted barely a few minutes.
A deafening roar ripped through the palace, a sound that was less an explosion and more a concentrated, violent implosion. The very air vibrated, rattling the ancient stones of the palace walls. A blinding flash of emerald green light erupted from Lily's room, followed by a concussive force that sent shockwaves rippling through the entire wing.
Glass shattered inward, splintering into a million deadly shards. Dust, thick and acrid, billowed out, choking the ornate hallways. The scent of ozone and burning wood filled the air.
Screams erupted, immediate and piercing, quickly devolving into panicked shouts and the frantic pounding of boots as guards and servants rushed towards the epicenter of the chaos. Within moments, the corridor outside Lily's room was a scene of utter pandemonium.
Smoke curled from the gaping hole where her door once stood, debris scattered everywhere, and the frantic cries of those searching for survivors echoed through the stone halls.
"The Princess! Where is the Princess?!" a captain of the Royal Guard bellowed, his voice hoarse with alarm, as he scrambled through the smoke, frantically waving away the thick plumes. His eyes, wide with fear, scanned the devastation.
Another guard, a young recruit, stumbled back from the doorway, coughing violently. "It's... it's gone, Captain! The room... it's a ruin!"
The official report, issued hours later amidst the frantic clean-up and hushed whispers, stated that Second Princess Lily Font Gritonia was nowhere to be found. Speculation ran rampant: an assassin, a rival noble, a rogue magical attack.
It was, after all, tragically common for royalties and nobles to meet such ends in the cutthroat world of Gritonia politics. The palace, a symbol of stability, was now a hive of fear and suspicion. Every shadow seemed to hold a new threat, every whisper a conspiracy.
Alas, few knew the truth. Few knew that the 'assassin' was not a lone rogue, but two figures of unimaginable power, moving with a speed that defied perception, a precision that mocked security.
It was, as the astute reader might have already surmised, a perfectly orchestrated, albeit brutally executed, staged act. Tomoe and Shalltear, with their unique blend of overwhelming strength and impossible speed, had simply brute-forced their way through the palace's defenses.
There was no need for intricate plans, no complex infiltration. Just pure, unadulterated power wielded with surgical intent.
The emerald flash was Tomoe's spatial distortion, a controlled implosion designed to create maximum disruption with minimal actual harm to the structure. It was a precise burst of energy that pulverized the door and anything immediately behind it, while leaving the surrounding walls largely intact.
In the instant of chaos, as dust and debris filled the air and the guards were disoriented, Shalltear, a crimson streak, had moved. She had snatched the unconscious Princess Lily from her bed, a mere sack of potatoes in her firm grasp, before the first guard had even registered the explosion.
Their exit was as swift and silent as their entry. They moved not with stealth, but with such overwhelming velocity that they simply weren't seen. They were gone before the dust settled, before the first scream fully registered, leaving behind only the lingering scent of ozone and the bewildered cries of the palace staff.
When you are strong enough, truly strong enough, many things that seem to require elaborate preparation can be done flawlessly, without anyone knowing you were even there. Even kidnappings.
The Second Princess Lily, still lost to the world, was whisked away by the two formidable women, carried effortlessly as they began their journey towards the distant, hidden lands of Zeldonia. The twin moons began their slow ascent, casting long, eerie shadows across the land, as if to erase any trace of their passage.
…
Far from the chaos of the Gritonia Empire, within the cavernous, almost impossibly vast treasure room of my own domain, I was engaged in a very different kind of hunt. The room itself was a testament to years of accumulated wealth and power.
It was a shimmering expanse of gold, jewels, and artifacts that stretched further than the eye could see. Mountains of ancient coins gleamed under the magical ambient light, alongside towering shelves laden with enchanted weaponry, arcane tomes bound in dragon hide, and relics from forgotten civilizations. Each item hummed with latent power, a silent symphony of magical energy.
But I wasn't interested in ancient crowns or legendary swords today. My search was for something far more… modern. Something I had custom-made after winning the World Tournament, a feat that had required not just overwhelming power but also an intricate dance of lore manipulation, complex programming, and painstaking negotiation with the staffs.
It had been a monumental undertaking, consuming years of my time in Yggdrasil, a project born from a singular, audacious idea.
You must be wondering what it was. What could possibly warrant such effort, such a grand explanation?
It was a gaming smartphone.
Yes, you heard me right. A gaming smartphone.
I can almost hear your incredulous thoughts, the bewildered questions forming in your mind. While my creation is distinct and adapted to my own needs and the realities of this multiverse, the core idea is similar to a concept found in the novel "Let me game in peace".
Imagine a device that connects to real-life dungeons, transforming them into grindable games. In most worlds, raiding dungeons is a perilous, often fatal, endeavor. You get one life, one chance. But with this smartphone, one could practice, strategize, and fight within a digital simulation of a real dungeon, without the actual risk of death.
But its most revolutionary feature, the true jewel in its crown, was the ability to acquire and cultivate 'companion beasts' – spiritual parasites, akin to Pokémon, that lived within the user like a Pokéball, ready to be summoned to fight in the real world.
It wasn't just for research or planning; it was a direct conduit to increasing one's strength, a literal game-changer that allowed for infinite grinding and the accumulation of power through simulated combat.
Making it real, making it functional in this physical reality, was far from easy. The Yggdrasil version had its own limitations, requiring a physical 'palm sign' scan of a dungeon to generate its game app.
Adapting that to the raw, untamed reality of the multiverse, where dungeons weren't neatly categorized instances but chaotic, ever-shifting anomalies, required a level of magical engineering that bordered on the absurd.
For two grueling years, I had traversed countless Yggdrasil dungeons, meticulously gathering data, reverse-engineering many principles, and weaving intricate layers of lore into its very fabric. The lore, in particular, was crucial; it was the metaphysical scaffolding that allowed the device to bridge the gap between digital simulation and physical reality, ensuring its functionality across diverse magical systems.
Without that meticulously crafted lore, the entire project would have been a spectacular, universe-shattering failure. I had poured months, actual months, of relentless work into it, pushing myself to the brink of collapse, driven by the singular vision of its potential.
The goal was simple, yet ambitious: infinite companion beasts. In many worlds, companion beasts were rare, unique entities, their acquisition a matter of chance or immense effort. With this smartphone, the potential for acquiring and cultivating them was limitless, a true game-changer for my long-term plans.
My current objective was to verify its functionality in this particular world. After all the effort, after all the intricate lore I'd woven into its core, I needed to be absolutely certain it would adapt. The thought of it failing after all that work was… unacceptable.
I moved through the treasure room with practiced ease, my eyes scanning the organized chaos. If you're wondering why I was searching for it instead of having it neatly placed, well, I'm not exactly the tidy type. I appreciate order, yes, but the act of maintaining it? Absolutely not. My philosophy is: if I can delegate, I will.
Though, now that everyone is coming to live here, I suppose I'll have to assign someone to manage and keep this place orderly. Perhaps Pandora's Actor, with his meticulous nature and ability to perfectly mimic anyone, would be ideal for such a task. I chuckled to myself, already envisioning his fastidious organization.
Finally, my fingers brushed against a cool, smooth surface nestled beneath a pile of ancient scrolls. There it was. A sleek, obsidian rectangle, its screen a dark mirror, its edges glowing with a faint, internal luminescence.
I picked it up, a thrill of satisfaction running through me. I pressed a thumb to its surface, and the dark screen flickered to life, displaying a familiar interface. It worked, at least for the dungeons and field event games I'd already loaded into it.
Now, the true test: this world's dungeons. I tucked the device into a pocket of my robes, a faint hum of power emanating from it.
A thought suddenly struck me, a pleasant reminder. Ah! Tomoe and Shalltear. They would be returning soon, bringing with them one of the key characters from this world. A character perfect for me, a living, breathing source of high-quality information about the current state of this reality. My plans were falling into place.
Not long after, a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air announced their return. I was already in my office, a more austere, functional space compared to the treasure room, filled with maps, strategic documents, and a large, comfortable desk. The door, magically reinforced, swung open silently.
Tomoe entered first, her expression calm, a subtle aura of success clinging to her. She moved with her usual grace.
Shalltear followed, her crimson eyes gleaming with a hint of triumph, carrying a limp, unconscious figure draped over her shoulder like a discarded cloak. It was Princess Lily Font Gritonia.
Lily. One of the major characters in the 'canon' I was familiar with, yet crucially, one who was never truly on anyone's side. Her history was tragic, her mother lost years ago, a loss she fiercely, privately, blamed on the very Goddess worshipped by this world's hyumans.
This made her invaluable. Every other high-ranking, information-holding individual in this world was, to varying degrees, 'goddess-frantic,' their perspectives skewed by corrupted faith.
Lily, however, was one of the few who harbored deep-seated resentment towards the goddess. This unique perspective meant her knowledge would be untainted by faith in goddess, her insights far more objective and reliable.
Sure, there were others who had fallen out of favor with the Goddess, or who had abandoned their faith, but their information would be fragmented, incomplete, or colored by personal grievances. I needed the highest quality, the most comprehensive data available, and Lily was the perfect conduit for it.
Her position, her exposure to the inner workings of the palace, her interactions with both nobility and commoners – all of it made her a goldmine of strategic intelligence.
Now, I just had to wake her up. And then, the real work would begin. I needed to ascertain exactly what part of the anime's timeline we were currently in. Tomoe's initial assessment suggested it was before the Hero's summoning, but I needed precise confirmation.
How far behind were we from the true start of the canon events? Every detail mattered. Every piece of information would be crucial in shaping my next moves in this new, intriguing world. The chessboard was set, and Lily was a crucial piece.
I gestured to a prepared cot in the corner of the office, a simple, yet comfortable, bed. "Place her there, Shalltear." My voice was calm, authoritative, betraying none of the anticipation bubbling beneath the surface. The game was about to begin.